


The Gray Man

by McVetty



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: mama stilinski's death, possibly gives you feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McVetty/pseuds/McVetty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first text comes in at nine. Stiles ignores it. The second text comes in at nine fifteen. The third at nine seventeen. The fourth chirps in at nine twenty-three, and Stiles can't ignore them anymore. Someone is either messing with him, or they know something about his mother, and he's going to find out which one it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gray Man

**Author's Note:**

> Total non-canon unedited un-beta'd work (feel free to point out mistakes)

The Alpha was big. Not big, _huge_. When Stiles had thought Peter was big, he now knew that it was only ignorance on his part. This Alpha was massive, tipping the scales so dizzyingly fast that Stiles couldn't follow. All at once he knew Peter's alpha form was incomplete. Somehow, in a way that he could barely grasp at the time but was suddenly crystal clear, Peter's alpha form was a shell of what it could be. This, standing before him, was what an Alpha looked like. Hulking shoulders covered in bristly hair, long claws on the end of powerful arms, blood-red eyes glaring balefully out at the world from a twisted mashup of wolf and human features.

In the face of all this, Stiles couldn't move.

But that's not how this started.

 

 

 

The text came at nine in the evening. Stiles read it without much thought and set his phone to the side. It was considered impolite table manners to have phones during family dinner in the Stilinski house. The Sheriff nodded his approval of Stiles' choice, and they continued eating.

The second text came at nine fifteen.

The third at nine seventeen.

The fourth chirped in at nine twenty-three.

Sheriff Stilinski pulled a face and waved Stiles out of the room.

The first text message read; _I know something._

The second text message read; _I know something about your mom._ Stiles swallowed hard, his thumb pressing delete harder than he intended. The next message in the row popped up immediately.

It read; _I know something about your mom, do you want to know, too?_

Stiles grit his teeth and deleted the message. He was too slow to delete the next one.

It said; _You were lied to._

He licked his lips, eyes darting up to the frame of the kitchen door, through which his father was waiting patiently to finish the meal. He looked down to his phone, fingers trembling on the keys. His hand was shaking.

The fourth message read; _Meet me in the cemetery. Alone._

It didn't specify a date or time. Stiles stared at it much longer than he intended, until the screen was a blur of white and grey.

His father didn't ask where he was going when he grabbed his coat and his keys.

Or maybe he did, Stiles didn't hear him.

Five times, Stiles checked the messages. He knew it was a trap before he left his driveway, yet something propelled him forward. He had to know, and barring that, he had to see the person behind the texts claiming to know. His hands clutching the wheel were slick with sweat and his vision was blurring with what he realized to be tears.

When the jeep crunched onto the gravel drive of the cemetery Stiles wiped away the tears with the back of his hand and stared into the darkness. As far as he could tell it was empty. In case, he checked the messages again. Then he deleted them and stepped out of the jeep.

 

 

 

He woke up on the ground, beside a familiar headstone. His amber eyes opened wide in panic as he tried to move but found that he couldn't. Everything was frozen and numb.

That's how it started.

The Alpha loomed from the darkness, a beast from nighmares. There was a deep rumble from its chest as it squatted beside Stiles, jabbing its jaws in his face. He let out a humiliating squeak and the Alpha stepped back. It was _huge_ , he noticed for what seemed like the hundredth time. Then it became _not_ huge, shrinking to the more manageable shape and size of a middle-aged man with gray hair and gray eyes. In the darkness his naked skin was gray, too.

“I'm glad you came,” he said smoothly. His voice, if it had a color, would be gray. Stiles knew. The man smiled, baring shiny white teeth. “Do you want to know more? I thought we were going to chat, but you ignored me.”

Stiles whimpered in an attempt to speak.

The Alpha laughed and wrinkled his nose. “Don't try talking, not for a few minutes at least. Your group of rejects aren't the only ones who can create a Kanima, you know.”

Stiles felt an inward surge of panic at the realization. The feeling was so damnably familiar because he had felt it before. Utter _helplessness._

“As long as you are my audience for the night, shall I put on a show?”

Stiles grit his teeth, glaring up at the Alpha.

The gray man patted the tombstone, his long nails scraping against the stone in the darkness. “Your mother was so lovely,” he said softly, almost wistfully. His gray eyes shifted to Stiles. “You know that already, and I promised you something you didn't know. Would you like to know now?”

“Nnn...” Stiles grit out.

“Don't say no, I couldn't _stand_ it if you said no,” the Alpha said mournfully.

Panic fluttered in Stiles' heart as the Alpha's eyes flashed red.

“Chronic Leukemia, that's what they told you. She had a high survival rate, they said. Then, one day, she was gone. You remember that, don't you?” the gray man cooed, watching Stiles' face closely. “I know you do, I listen to you at night, Stiles, don't try to fool me. You still dream about her.”

Stiles' face twitched and a strangled sound escaped his throat.

“Your mom knew some people,” the Alpha went on slowly. “She didn't know that she knew them, of course, but she did. Like your dad knew them, and Scott's mom, and just about the whole town. They all knew these friends. The friends knew the Hale family, were really close to them, in fact. They were close to the Argents too, the double-dealing bastards.” The Alpha's eyes shifted red and his fangs slipped out as his voice lost control for a split second. With a sudden jerk, the man regained himself, rolling his bare shoulders as if it had been a sore muscle. “We don't often _talk_ about them, you see. Bad blood.”

Stiles bit down hard. He wanted to scream for help, but who would hear him this far from town? He didn't want to sit through this, he didn't want to hear the Alpha's crackpot story. It was all lies, there wasn't a bit of truth in it all, and he wanted to say so, but his throat didn't want to work, it kept closing up on him and choking out his words.

“She was very close with one of these friends. No, I'm not here to tell you she had an affair. No, Stiles, your father was the apple of her eye. No one could compare. Not even her friend, who tried to save her, and give her back her life.”

Stiles felt every muscle in his body tense painfully.

“It didn't take. They put her in the hospital, but they didn't know what to do. There was nothing they could have done.” The gray man sighed and looked up at the dark sky. “I wanted so badly for her to get better, but only made things worse.” The man took a lengthy pause. He looked at his hands. “Every word is true. If you doubt me, ask your new friend Peter Hale. He will remember me. He will remember your mother.” The gray man looked at Stiles with emotionless gray eyes. “This is no apology, you must know that. This is a lesson. Your friends are dangerous. Get away while you can, or you might end up like your poor mother.”

Stiles felt tears stinging his eyes and his vision blurred.

“I'll keep in touch,” the Alpha said. “Tell your father I sad hello.”

Feeling was returning to his fingers and toes, but he could do nothing as the Alpha shifted and loped away through the gravestones. Stiles closed his eyes against the tears and gave in to the sobs trying to force their way from his body. Beside him, his mother's gravestone watched over him silently.


End file.
